The Librarian
by kitax13
Summary: T-for tension and swearing : TenxRose AU : connected by one book, A Man's Trial in Time, Rose and John Smith find themselves drawn to one another.


_Alright, here it is! Fluff and a little sexual tension. HECK, who am I kidding? ALOT of sexual tension. Sorry if you're waiting for me to finish another fic, I got distracted by rosexten. I hope you like it._

* * *

It was six o'clock on a normal Saturday morning. The sun had barely made its way over the building filled horizon as a woman rubbed sleep from her eyes and sat up in her bed. Her alarm continued to ring out on her bedside table and would continue for the next two minutes while she collected her thoughts. Why was she awake? Why did her head hurt so much? Why were her curtains open and allowing the bright sun to stream into her eyes? With one hand she covered her eyes. With the other she tapped blindly at her bedside table until her fingers found the button that stopped the alarm. She let out a sigh and ran a hand through her hair before finally getting out of bed and stretching her arms slowly above her head. The sun touched her skin and she pulled back in; cold. She scrambled for a sweater nearest to her on the floor and dropped it over her head. It fell to her knees and past her fingertips, warm and soft. A smile found its way to her tired face as she reached for a pair of black opaque tights and pulled one and two legs through the fabric. Then she heard it—the faint sound of voices from the living room. Her heart sped for a second before laughing to herself. TV. The TV played loudly in the other room meaning only one thing: her mother had fallen asleep on the couch… again. She quickly and quietly made her way into the living room and slid the remote from her mother's hand. She turned down the volume and gave her mom a kiss, before putting on her boots, leaving, and locking the door behind her.

Being awake this early was not ideal for her—especially not on a Saturday morning. But when she made a commitment to finish University, she didn't know enough about her local library. For example, she didn't know that the library closed early on Saturdays because only one librarian volunteered their Saturday to work and they could only spare the morning. Therefore: earlier closing times on Saturday. Of course if you asked her she would be the first to admit that having to wake up early was her own fault. She had put off the work for Thursday but had gone drinking Wednesday and had a hangover for days after. There was nothing she could do now, to avoid her predicament. She was already awake and her car started. So she got by with some basic sighs and grumbles when she wasn't being surprised by her surroundings. She had taken great care to schedule night classes so that she could sleep more in the mornings. Therefore she hadn't really seen her street at this time of day since middle school. There were so many more cars on the street now than when she usually drove. Everyone was off to work and no one was happy about it. The faces passing her were either grouchy or spacey, and a car horn sounded every minute or so. Usually she was a speeder when it came to driving, but there was barely enough room to change lanes, let alone pass anyone. She took her time as she was being forced to and crawled along with the traffic. The library was down the street a few blocks but it took her just about as much time as it would if she was going 10 more.

"Next time Shareen suggests 10¢ happy hour, we say no." She said, finally pulling into the parking-lot and up to the building. The lot was empty with only two other places taken. She pulled into the closest spot beside a small blue car; one of those European models, and made her way into the building.

It was quiet in the entry-way. The checkout desk was empty. The librarian: MIA. Three or four tables filled the open lobby and shelves of books lined the walls and lead to more rooms full of books. Sitting at the table farthest from the door and to the left was a girl with wire glasses and mousy brunette hair. She had a book open in front of her and a bottle of water to her right. The girl looked her way when she first entered and the building and the automatic door made a slightly annoying squeak. It wasn't a very pleasant look either. Occupying the table closest to the checkout desk was a man. She only got a look at his profile but he had a look about him. His hair stuck up with gel and his nose was rather pointy, but he wasn't unattractive. He had on black rimmed glasses that settled low on his nose and drew attention to his eyes. They were dark but decisively settled on the small black book in his hands. She couldn't read the back of the book or its small white writing but it was thick sat heavily in his hands.

It was so empty and she found it so amusing. She let out a snicker. A small excess of air escaped her and the two occupants of the library looked in her direction. She made eye contact with the brunette girl, who didn't try to hide her distaste before returning to her book. She let her sight drift to the man who now turned to face her. His glasses still on the tip of his nose and his eyes set on hers. The connection was short as she had to look away. Never had she seen someone lick their lips so deliberately. Even though she knew she was imagining it, it seemed more personal than she was comfortable with. Another small laugh escaped the room and her eyes shot back to the man who was now totally immersed in his book, then to the girl who was giving him the look that she had received just seconds ago. The man smiled down at his book as the girl reading stood up; finally over her situation. The girl stuffed her book and water into her bag and quickly made her way past the checkout desk and out the front doors.

The same snicker hit the air again and she looked over to see the man standing. He had a sarcastic looking mile playing across his lips as he snapped his book closed and walked slowly towards the checkout desk. She was surprised. Not only was he rather attractive, but he was tall. He wore a sliming brown coat and pants over a white dress shirt. The collar was open showing a skinny neck and pointy collarbones. He was coming straight at her and she froze. When he turned and dropped the book in the drop off box, she let air sift through her teeth. He spun around on his heel, just slowly enough for her to see his sarcastic smile pointed directly at her. His long legs made their way past her and to the left, towards the first few stacks of history novels. Out of all the stacks in the library, he had to go exactly where she needed to. It was weird to be imagining all of these different scenarios, she understood that, but still a smile drifted onto her face and a laugh escaped her. The irony of the situation was brilliant and she felt like- like smiling. So maybe she was letting her imagination get a hold of her, and maybe it had been a while since she had met a stranger's eye with something like intrigue, but maybe… just maybe, she didn't care.

She entered the empty section and scanned the shelves for what she needed. It was a book written by an insignificant baker of the time. The name was funnily enough, Baker. The title: A Man's Trials in Time. She hadn't been to the class yet but the book sounded more interesting than the actual lesson to be learned from it. The B section for authors was the third row of the History Novels and stood three shelves above her head.

"I could really use those long legs now." She said to the open isle, thinking of the man in the brown jacket. It didn't seem like it, but maybe… she thought maybe she could reach it. She could see the books above her head, and she could pick out the one she needed. A dark brown leather-bound journal, with red title inscribed on the spine, sat shoved between two blackish gray paperback books. "You got this." She said with a challenge in her own smile, as she started to reach for the shelf. Her fingers played across the very bottom of the leather; tickling the idea of grabbing it. If she could just push in the bottom, maybe the whole thing would fall on her head and she could get onto her reading. She scratched her nail into the bottom of the book. It tilted. It wobbled. It… was steadied by another hand. Long skinny fingers lead to a slender bony wrist, which lead to a long brown sleeve and that to the hansom face of the man before. His eyes, that she would be daft not to see, were a bright green hazel and stared up at the book in his hand. They slid slowly down to meet hers and shook slightly as he took a deep breathe through his nose. She let her eyes drift to his cheekbones and then down his jaw line—speckled with six AM shadow. She settled her eyes on his adam'sapple. It bobbed and her eyes shot back up to his eyes, still locked onto hers. He smelled of mint and stale smoke. She breathed in slowly.

"Here," he let out with his most recent breath. He didn't move for a few seconds but did pull his arm down, sliding it down the case behind her. They were so close, she could feel his breathe on her nose. He held the book beside her but she barely noticed as her eyes wavered over his.

"Th- thanks…" she let out as a whisper, surprising even herself. She looked down but immediately returned to him. Sarcasm played at his mouth and he looked back and forth from the book to her.

"You probably need to get that checked out." He said, still as close as he had been for the last solid minute. He even seemed to lean in for just such a short time before pulling away completely. The brown leather was still held in his hands as he turned quickly and made his way back into the lobby. It was then that she was leaning heavily on the bookcase behind her. It was bolted down so it's not like it would have fallen, but still she straightened herself up and brought the back of her hand to her cheek—warm and probably pink. That's when she noticed everything. She wasn't getting any work done. She just spent almost a minute total staring at someone she didn't know; noticing things like how the dimmed light from the isle fell under his chin and drifted a shadow over his neck, how many freckles he had across his cheeks, how those same freckles reappeared on his hand and down his fingers. He still had her book. She looked up finally getting to the part that might actually mean something to the rest of her life. He sill had her book and he had just walked away with it. Checked out. He was going to the check out desk.

"Oh, God." A long sigh fled her mouth. So it wasn't just her imagining it. At this point she could definitely, 75%, pretty much say she wasn't imagining anything in this situation. Her head was swimming horribly and she was filled with hormones from her, kind of, maybe close call. Why had she been so drawn to him? Why was he so close? Why had he stopped? She knew that if he had tried to put the moves on her, she wouldn't have resisted. Actually she was fairly sure that he had put the moves on her and she had not resisted. So why did it just end? He walked away when she could have sworn he was getting just close enough to see sparks of gold in his eyes. He had her book. She needed that book. Oh God. "This is going to be embarrassing."

* * *

_So yeah I went with another possible oneshot. Should I write more? I want to know, so tell me if I should. Even if one person tells me they want to know what happens next, I'll write more. Geronimo!_


End file.
